


You

by Bumblebeebitch



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, M/M, like mostly its just reflective and quiet?, so.... uh.... yeah..., this is only a tiny bit spicy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29794698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumblebeebitch/pseuds/Bumblebeebitch
Summary: Yamcha reflects on his feelings... and his dreams.
Relationships: Tenshinhan/Yamcha (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	You

Bulma’s words were still echoing through Yamcha’s mind- _useless, hopeless, inconsiderate-_ as he unlocked the door to his barren little apartment. The room was sparsely furnished, a small chaise lounge, a low coffee table, a half dead pot plant- it suited his mood rather well, really. His day up until that point had actually been great, an extremely rare visit from Tien and Chiaotzu putting a genuine pep in his step- he’d been so happy to catch up with them and to spar with Tien for old times sake, he’d completely lost track of time. The fact he’d accidentally stood Bulma up for some capsule corp event was an unfortunate side effect, but he had hoped since Tien visiting was such a rarity Bulma wouldn’t be too upset. 

He’d hoped wrong of course, the ensuing half hour he spent grovelling had done nothing to assuage Bulma’s anger. Pointing out that she had stood him up for more than a few Taitan’s events didn’t help much either, so he retreated back to his quiet apartment, tail between his legs just like he always did. At this point he and Bulma spent more time arguing or apart than anything else. Really, he should be used to the fighting but instead he just found himself feeling more exhausted with every passing day. The small voice that had lived quietly in the back of his head for years had slowly been getting louder, questioning why they were still together when they didn’t even seem to like each other very much. Fear of the unknown, maybe… or perhaps it was because neither of them wanted to admit defeat- to acknowledge 14 years had been for naught. But that wasn’t really true, even if they weren’t together he could never bring himself to regret falling for Bulma, for running away with her to the city. If it weren’t for her and Goku there's no telling where he and Puar would be today- dead probably, he reasoned.

With a huff he kicked off his shoes and undid his belt, dropping his pants to the floor- leaving him in nothing but his “lucky” boxers and a cotton t-shirt. He knew he really should shower but the notion of doing anything other than collapsing in a heap seemed like too much. He tossed himself back against his futon, staring blankly up into the cracks of his ceiling. He used to think once they properly settled down and got married things would work themself out but the more time that passed the less he believed that. _The more time that passed the more he realized he didn’t even want that anymore._ He loved Bulma, he really did, but was he truly in love with her? And did she even Love him? The fact he even had to ask himself that should have been answer enough. He couldn’t delude himself anymore, whatever romance they once had was long over, he wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened- If there was even an exact point where it had started to degrade beyond the point of no return, all he knew was that the sweet romance of youth was long over with. He should have accepted things were irrevocably broken between them after he returned from King Kai’s- those first few days back after the initial joys of seeing everyone again were tainted with guilt- guilt so strong he’d hardly been able to meet her eyes. She’d been so happy to see him again, so kind for a change... and all he could think about was Tien. 

How he had told Tien he would stay with him- stay _dead_ with him for all eternity. He didn’t think about Bulma once. He would have left her without so much as a goodbye, not even a passing thought in her direction. Over a decade and he didn’t even think twice about throwing that all away for Tien. He’d felt wretched, even Tien had asked about Bulma, about how she would feel if he left her behind forever and yet Yamcha hadn’t thought of her at all. 

And he’d done it again, as soon as he’d felt Tien’s ki that morning- a ki he could hone in on from miles away- any thought of getting ready for the lunch had disappeared from his mind. Instead he threw on the first outfit he could find and disappeared to look for Tien. 

He’d been in denial for a long time, he knew that now. Even on King Kai’s he still hadn’t accepted that deep down he’d been harbouring feelings beyond friendship for Tien for years. It had been easier to ignore once Tien had returned to his nomadic lifestyle but still Yamcha would wake up every once in a while- Tien’s name on the tip of his tongue. He could claim it was nothing more than missing a friend, yet he never found himself dreaming of Krillin or Goku. He never zoned out at a match wondering if Krillin might watch him on tv sometimes- No, he only did that for Tien. Tien Shinhan had crashed into his life and left a crater in Yamcha’s heart that he had never been able to shake. Just as he still couldn’t shake the pain that shot through his leg on chilly winter mornings, another reminder of the man that was never far from his thoughts. Throwing an arm over his eyes Yamcha groaned, of all the people on earth to fall for he just had to go and fall for the nomadic monk, who as far as he knew, would never reciprocate his feelings. With a deep sigh Yamcha let the exhaustion sink into his bones, drifting off in the late afternoon sun.

Yamcha wasn’t quite sure how they had gotten back to King Kai’s, though he was sure it was king Kai’s. He was laying back against the soft grass, the pink sky overhead casting an ethereal glow through the clouds, as if in perpetual sunset. A familiar face loomed above him, casting a shadow over his own face- Tien. Before he could ask what they were doing there, Tien’s calloused hand came down to gently brush against his cheek, a thumb running softly over his bottom lip strangled Yamcha’s words in his throat. He watched wide eyed as Tien licked his lips as if in anticipation, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight- before he could even think Yamcha found himself grabbing Tien by the back of his head, pulling him down into a deep kiss.

A reciprocated kiss. 

Tien was on top of him in seconds, his heavy body pressing Yamcha further into the grass, the kiss was hungry and passionate, they bumped noses and scraped teeth, what they lacked in coordination they more than made up with enthusiasm. He found himself moaning into Tien’s mouth as his hands found their way to tangle into Yamcha’s long hair, fingertips running over his scalp. His own hands were running over Tien’s searing flesh, feeling the strong muscles of his back. Pulling Yamcha’s bottom lip between his own Tien nipped at it causing Yamcha to dig his short nails into Tien’s shoulder blades. Tien responded in kind, grinding his hips against Yamcha’s, their joint moans of pleasure disappearing against each other's lips. Pulling his mouth away, Tien trailed hungry kisses down Yamcha’s jaw, down his neck… Yamcha was sure there would be bruises but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too lost in the feeling of Tien. He was all encompassing, his mouth, his scent, his hands- it was heaven. Strong hands moved from his hair and were working at his gi, brushing at the bare skin of Yamcha’s stomach as they disappeared under the material- everything was happening so fast he could barely register it at all- he brought his hands down to the hem of Tien’s tank top attempting to pull it free. Tien readjusted himself, sitting up. He looked down into Yamcha’s eyes, an expression of pure serenity on his flushed face as he quietly whispered something, but before Yamcha could ask what he had said a loud crack wrung out-

Yamcha sat up in confusion, all he could see was darkness- his mind was racing. His hands reached out for Tien but found only air. The room was dark, he was alone. He was alive. Taking a deep breath he tried to steady himself. It was just a dream... Falling back against the futon he couldn’t help but to bring a hand to his chest, feeling the frantic thrum of his heartbeat. His hazy thoughts drifted back to the memory of the dream he’d just been abruptly awoken from. King Kai’s, Tien laying on top of him, the kiss…The details of the dream still fresh in his mind, how Tien had kissed his neck possessively, how he had dug his nails into Tien’s shoulders...What had Tien been about to say? He closed his eyes against the darkness, trying to get back to his dream- to know what Tien had whispered.

Not that it mattered, he realized bleakly. Tien hadn’t said anything, it was his own mind that conjured the dream… and yet he still wished to be back there, in his dream with Tien. To have Tien hold him, to feel his weight, to feel his lips... He was familiar enough with these dreams to know the throbbing he felt below the waistband of his boxers wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. His body couldn’t help but to respond to the images his mind's eye projected. With a sigh, he closed his eyes again, his mind still thinking of Tien’s face. He knew he should feel shame, shame that he dreamt of Tien like that. Tien was his friend and even if things were hopeless, he was still with Bulma. Yet the throbbing persisted and the image of Tien’s flushed face continued to rest behind his eyelids, almost as if seared there. Was it truly so bad to indulge himself in a fantasy that would never be, if only for five minutes? He’d repressed himself for so long surely any god listening would forgive him this… Though he supposed his ego must have been out of control, as if any divine entity would concern themselves with his whims and tresspasses. He breathed deeply through his nose, his mind trailing back to how his and Tien’s noses had brushed against each other in the dream as they kissed, a phantom tingle still on his lips from the memory. Removing the hand that had been resting over his heart he slowly inched toward his neck, caressing the places where Tien had laid his lips, finding untouched skin- 

Where Tien had been rough in the dream, Yamcha’s fingertips were feather light- Barely present at all, raising the hairs on his skin. He imagined Tien trailing a calloused finger over his throat, up his chin, against his lips. How his three dark eyes would watch Yamcha’s face closely, how he would wet his lips in anticipation of pulling Yamcha into another kiss... The ache below his waist intensified, he ran his hand down lower, feeling the cotton of his shirt beneath his fingers. He slid the hem higher exposing his taut belly, running his fingertips over his abdomen. Slowly trailing his fingers lower and lower, his mind drifted back to the image of Tien’s broad body resting on top of him. How he pressed Yamcha further into the soft grass, how their hips had been moving in tandem. Dipping his hand below the elastic of his boxers, Yamcha grasped himself, his breath hitching, Tien’s name on the tip of his tongue.

Before he could indulge himself in speaking the name out loud, a sharp rap of knuckles against the glass sliding door to his balcony cut through the silence of his apartment, stopping Yamcha dead in his tracks.

**Author's Note:**

> omg... i wonder who's at the door?


End file.
